


It isn't easy

by captorganmay



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Awkward meeting, Child Abandonment, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 13:07:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captorganmay/pseuds/captorganmay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will receives a letter from his mother</p>
            </blockquote>





	It isn't easy

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this story earlier, but I didn't like it. I deleted and wrote it all in one chapter. It made more sense that way. I also changed the title because... well just because.

Will checks his mail as the dogs mill around the yard. Will quickly flips through the various advertisements; at the bottom of it all is an envelope with his name written in slanted cursive. He blinks in surprise. He never receives personal mail. He drops the rest of the junk on the ground and opens the letter at his mailbox.

_Will-_

_You have been difficult to track down, but it has given me time to think of what to say. I have written this letter countless times. I could never get it to sound just right. I finally gave up because this will never be an easy letter to write._

_When I left you and your father, I can't even begin to explain what I was thinking. Using the excuse that I was young sounds hollow now. But I was._

_I'm confident that you are doing well. You always had your father's resolve, even when you were young. Despite what you may believe, I have thought about you every day since the day I left.._

_I wish to see you. I will be in DC for a few days next week. I will be staying at the Madison hotel._

_With all my love,_

_Beth_

Will's hands shake and the paper soaks his tears as they fall on the paper. His head swims with emotion. Winston's noses his leg and Will wakes from his reverie. Will picks up the mail he had dropped with a sniffle and he and the dogs go into the house.

***

"My mother sent me a letter," Will says, deadpan.

Hannibal sits across from him, legs crossed in his usual fashion. "What did it say?"

"She is going to be in DC. She wants to meet me." Will scoffs and rubs his face with his hands. "I can't imagine why now."

"Sometimes it takes us a while to realize our mistakes," Hannibal ventures.

Will shakes his head and leans forward on his knees. "I can't decide if I want to go."

"What is making you hesitate?"

"I've always thought of my mother as, well, empty space. A void in my life that has only grown smaller as I get older. When I was young, I would imagine her as sweet and she would make my school lunch every day. But... my need for her..." Will trails off. He isn't sure if it is completely gone: his need for a mother. "I'm afraid I will just open old wounds, if I go."

"Well you need to think of the alternative as well. Can you bear not meeting her? Do you think you will later regret not going?"

Will looks up through his curls at Hannibal then back to the floor. The silence stretches for a long time before Will says, "I don't know." 

"If you don't know, then maybe it is your safer bet to go see your mother. You've survived the void before, you can do it again."

Will sits back in his chair and signs. He nods his head in agreement.

***

Will sits in the lobby of the Madison hotel. He can't stop his knee from jiggling and he can't stop his fingers from tapping on the arm of his chair. He feels the anxiety rising in his chest, wanting to crawl its way out of his throat.

He sees a woman walking towards him and his chest lurches. But she turns to another table with two other women. Will's heart sinks again, but at the same time he flushes with relief. He wonders if he is actually ready. Will closes his eyes and leans his head back. He feels a tap on his shoulder.

"Will?" The voice is mild, but confident. Will opens his eyes and faces the voice. His eyes open to a kind, but withered face. Her face is gaunt and her skin pale, but he still finds her beautiful. He doesn't get up so she sits across from him and smiles. Will can't find words; he can only stare at her. "You're so handsome. You look just like your father."

Will swallows the lump in his throat. He wants to say something, but he finds it difficult to move words. He can feel the pressure building behind his eyes so he clenches his jaw and grasps his hands together.

"I'm so glad you came. I was afraid you wouldn't. I imagine you are very angry with me..." She trails off. She clearly feels very awkward. Will clears his throat and finally speaks.

"I was angry. When you left. I'm just indifferent now." The corners of Will's mouth twitch. "I'm curious why now though."

Beth gives him an understanding look. "This is going to sound selfish. But... I had to see you. How you've grown up." She looks down. "I have cancer, Will. A relapse. I don't want to go through treatment again. It... makes life feel meaningless. I want to spend the rest of my time living."

Will nods. He can feel anger bubbling in his chest and shame making his tongue go limp. He wasn't sure if he could speak without it showing in his words so he remains silent.

"I spoke to your father. A few years before he died. He said you were a police officer?" Beth looks at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"Not anymore."

"Oh. What do you do now?"

Will scoffs and his mouth stretches in a bittersweet smile. It would be hard to sum up what he was and what he did so he made it simple, "I teach at the FBI academy in Quantico."

His mother's smile widens. "Wow. I'm so proud of you."

Will shakes his head and laughs sarcastically. "How can you do this?"

His mother's face falls and despite his emotional disconnect from her, he still feels guilty for making his mother have that expression. But he presses on. "I haven't seen you in almost 30 years. You finally decide to contact me to fulfill some death wish and then you say you're proud of me!? How can you be proud of someone you barely know?"

Will's mother is clearly upset by his words, but her face hardens. "Regardless of when I left, you are still _my_ son and I have a right to feel however I want about you. I will not lie about that. Ever."

Will doesn't know what to say. He leans back in his chair and rubs his face with his hands. "Your father used to do that all the time when he was frustrated," Beth quietly comments. Will drops his hands and looks at his mother with a pained expression.

"Did you re-marry?" By his voice, it's obviously he already knows the answer. He saw her ring on her left hand. She nods.

 "Kids?"

"Two."

Will licks his lips. He doesn't know what to say. His mother flags down the waiter and asks for two whiskeys, no ice. Will is shocked. "How did you know I drink whiskey?"

"It was a staple in our house and you always begged to try it." She chuckles. "I let you try a sip once and you coughed and vomited all over the carpet. Then you said, 'it wasn't that bad.'" She full out laughs at the memory and covers her face to keep the noise down. The other patrons in the hotel shoot her dirty looks. Will smiles, in spite of himself. "Your father always said you would be a whiskey boy."

When the waiter returns, Will downs nearly half the tumbler in one gulp. "I think I can handle it better now," his voice a little lighter than before. His mother laughs and nods.

The rest of the afternoon is full of catching up with each other, awkward moments, and memories. Will can't bear to ask why she left. He is afraid of what she will say. Instead he uses his empathy to feel her pain and her love for him.

Will is the first to get up to leave. He gives a lame excuse of having to get up early, even though it is only four in the afternoon. And tomorrow is Sunday. Without hesitation, Beth gives Will a hug. A hug that only a mother can give her son. Will hugs her back. The lump in his throat breaks free and he can feel the tears running down his face and staining the back of his mother's blouse. He tries to control his shuddered breathing. His mother pulls back and kisses his cheek.

***

A few weeks later, Will receives a package in the mail. He doesn't recognize the handwriting and there isn't a return address. When he opens it, there's a typed letter on top. It is one sentence on 8x11 printer paper.

_Our mother asked me to send you these when she died._

Will balls up the letter and throws it in the fireplace. He rummages through the box. It is full of pictures of him and his mother. She looked so healthy and happy then. So did he. She also sent a few clearly expensive pieces of jewelry. He finds a handwritten note at the bottom. It is folded small and tucked beneath a few photos. He opens it slowly. The handwriting is familiar. 

_Will-_

_I wanted you to have this jewelry. If you want to pawn it or keep it, I want you to make that choice because YOU ARE MY SON. Always and forever._

_I love you._

Will folds the letter carefully and puts it on top of everything. He then finds a place in his closet and puts the box safely from harm. 


End file.
